Worth Fighting For: A Warrior Fight Club/Big Sky Novella (Kristen Proby Crossover Collection Book 4)

by Laura Kaye

  Jesse nodded again. “Sounds good.”

  “It is. It’s a good place. And awesome people from across all the branches. I’ll make sure to introduce you to Sean Riddick—he was also navy. Oh, and Noah Cortez was EOD in the marines. So you’ll fit right in. I bet you’ll like WFC.” Her chattiness now almost felt like she needed to fill the silence they’d had between them before. But he wasn’t complaining. It was better than her not talking to him at all.

  “Don’t.”

  Worlds better.

  “Bet I will,” he said, letting himself do what he’d been wanting to do all morning. Get a good, long look at her pretty face. Her nose tilted up at the tip just a little, and her dark lashes were long. High cheekbones were tinged with a healthy pink, alive and vital.

  Exactly how she made him fucking feel.

  Tara caught him looking, but he didn’t turn away. “What?”

  “Nothing,” he said, undeterred.

  “Then why are you looking at me like that?”

  Like I want you? Because I do. But he didn’t say that. “Like what?”

  “Um, I don’t know. All…intense and stuff.”

  That eked a smile out of him. “All intense and stuff?”

  “Yeah. You know.”

  He shook his head. “I really don’t.” He totally did.

  She stopped behind a line of traffic at a red light. “You do, too. The whole tall, dark, and intense thing.”

  Jesse grinned. “Tall, dark, and intense?”

  Her expression went totally exasperated, and she rolled her eyes. “Stop answering a question with a question.”

  “Why?” He was thoroughly enjoying himself now.

  She glared at him. “Smart ass.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “I didn’t mean it as one.”

  “Hmm. How should I take ‘tall, dark, and intense’ then?” he asked, attempting to paint an innocent expression on his face.

  Her cheeks went pinker. “I don’t know!”

  “I’m going with another compliment, I think.”

  “Oh, for crap’s sake,” she muttered under her breath.

  “Regretting bringing me yet?” he asked.

  Tara sighed. “I haven’t decided.” But there was no heat behind the words. “So are you going to answer the question?”

  Jesse blinked. “Er, what was the question again?”

  She rolled her eyes at him so hard. “Why you were looking at me.”

  Images flashed through his mind’s eye. Of Tara, pinned against the wall in his hotel room. Of her sprawled out on his bed as he crawled over her. Of those blue eyes flashing up at him as she took him in her mouth. “Truth?”

  “Always.”

  “Because I like looking at you.” A fucking understatement given the way their teasing was stirring heat through his blood.

  Deep pink roared over her face and down her throat. She swallowed audibly. “Oh.”

  “Mmhmm. Any other questions?” he asked.

  “Um. No.” She braked at an open parking space. “Anyway, we’re here so prepare for me to kick your ass.”

  Jesse blinked. And then erupted with a deep belly laugh.

  She glared as she parallel parked, killed the engine, and turned to him. “Think that’s funny, huh?”

  He tried to get himself under control, but when had he last so enjoyed himself? “Only because, if you did, it would be my favorite ass-kicking ever.”

  Tara narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re still making fun of me.”

  He held up his hands. “No, ma’am. I’m telling you the God’s honest truth. Always. Remember?”

  Her expression was full of skepticism, and it was fucking cute. It really was. “You want me to kick your ass?”

  Jesse turned toward her and leaned in. “No, Tara, but I sure as hell would enjoy you trying.”

  Her eyes went wide and she licked her lips. And, Jesus, her gaze dropped to his mouth. It took everything he had not to act on the need both of them clearly felt. But for now, he took great satisfaction in knowing he wasn’t alone in feeling it. “Oh,” she whispered.

  “Yeah.”

  “So, um, we should, uh, go in. Now.”

  He nodded. “You lead, I’ll follow.”

  “Right,” she said, a sexy breathiness to her voice. She got out, retrieved her gym bag from the back seat, and came around to join him on the sidewalk that ran along the side of a big yellow-brick building—Full Contact MMA Training Center. They walked in silence all the way to the lobby, where a shiny steel reception counter filled one whole wall. She signed him in as a guest, and then they went down a flight of steps to a large rectangular gym space, open on one side, and housing two eight-sided cages on the other. “Let me introduce you to Coach Mack, and then I gotta go change.”

  There were about a dozen people already there, and he and Tara had barely started across the gym before the other club members started calling out greetings to her. A woman with long black hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail jogged over.

  “Hey, Tara. I’m glad you made it back in time.”

  “Hey. Yeah, me too. It was close though; we came directly from work.” She gestured to Jesse. “Dani, this is one of my co-workers, Jesse Anderson. He’s prior navy EOD. Jesse, this is Daniela England. She was an army nurse and works at University Hospital now. And she’s an all-around badass.”

  “I should have you do all my introductions,” Daniela joked, extending her hand. “Hey, Jesse. Welcome.”

  “Hi, Daniela. Thanks.”

  “I’ll see you out on the floor in a minute,” Tara said to the other woman. “I’m gonna introduce Jesse to Coach.” Dani gave them a wave, but they didn’t quite make it to the benches before one of the men came to give Tara a hug.

  “Hi, Tara. Dani said you might not make it,” the man said. Tall with dark hair, the guy had some scars on the side of his face close to his ear.

  She smiled at him, and it was clear just in these first few interactions what good friends everyone was. “Hi. Made it by the skin of my teeth. Noah, this is Jesse Anderson. We work together. Jesse, Noah’s the marine EOD I was telling you about.”

  “Noah, how are you?” Jesse asked, shaking the man’s hand. And damn if him being EOD didn’t give his scars a whole new meaning.

  “Good. Welcome, Jesse. You were EOD, too?”

  “Yeah. Navy, though. But we worked with you guys often enough.”

  Noah nodded. “Yeah, we did. Good to have you, man. If you need anything or have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask. Tara and I are the relative newbies in the bunch, but we’ve been here long enough to help you find your way around.”

  “Appreciate that,” Jesse said.

  Finally, they made it to where three men were congregated close to the benches. The oldest of them held a clipboard and was giving out assignments to the other two.

  “Coach Mack?” Tara asked when there was a pause in the men’s conversation. The coach was maybe ten years older than Jesse and wore full tattoo sleeves down both arms. “Jesse’s a friend of mine and potentially interested in joining.”

  The man turned to him. “Welcome, Jesse. I’m John McPherson, but everyone calls me Mack.”

  Tara excused herself as Jesse returned the man’s shake. “Glad to be here.”

  “Let me introduce you to our assistant coaches.” Coach Mack waved the other two men closer. “Jesse, this is Leo Hawkins and Colby Richmond. You need anything, feel free to ask any of us.” Leo had longish blond hair and solid black bands of ink around both biceps, and Colby had light brown skin and eyes, with close-cropped black hair.

  “Will do,” Jesse said, digging how welcoming everyone was. He wasn’t even a part of this yet, but he already got the sense that this was more than a club. It felt more like a community. Given how distant he’d become with his mom and sister, Willa, that had always been one of his favorite things about the military, and it seemed they had it here, too.

  Coach M
ack glanced at his watch. “Hawk, Colby, why don’t you handle warm-ups while I get Jesse squared away?”

  As the men agreed, Jesse scanned the room to see that more people had arrived. Most were out on the blue mats stretching and shooting the shit, and there were maybe eighteen in all—and Dani and Tara were the only women.

  Not interesting, my ass.

  He and Coach sat on a bench. “So Jesse, tell me a little about yourself.”

  “Well, I retired from navy EOD last year and just moved to DC for a new job a few weeks ago.”

  Coach made some notes. “Any prior MMA experience?”

  Jesse nodded. “I have a third-degree black belt in taekwondo. And I’ve done some boxing, wrestling, and judo.”

  “That’s perfect,” Coach said. “How about injuries?”

  He shook his head. “I’m in good health.”

  “Prior injuries?”

  Just then, Tara emerged from the locker room wearing a pair of gray spandex bike shorts, a loose-fitting tank over a sports bra, and a pair of black fingerless gloves. God, she had curves for days and drew him like a fucking magnet.

  Jesse cleared his throat. “Oh, uh. Yeah. A few. Two GSWs, one to the thigh, the other to the shoulder. A mild TBI about eight years ago. And, you know, a million close calls.” Like the time ten pounds of explosive had detonated a few feet behind him, tossing him a dozen feet in the air and burning and bloodying the backs of his legs. But it hadn’t been his time, and he’d walked away from that roadside bomb—flipping his middle finger at the unseen insurgent who’d triggered it for good measure. Due to the nature of the gig, EOD techs suffered some of the most severe and life-changing injuries in the military. By comparison, Jesse had gotten off easy, so the attention on this wasn’t entirely comfortable.

  The older man listened intently, the kind of listening that made you feel heard. Understood, even. Finally, Coach Mack nodded and handed him some paperwork. “If you decide to join, get this back to me next time. You’re clear to participate in everything except sparring today. Need your doc to sign off before that.”

  Nodding, Jesse tucked the packet into his duffle. “Thanks, Coach.”

  Clapping him on the back, Mack smiled. “Welcome to Warrior Fight Club.”

  Chapter 13

  Jesse was liking WFC. The people were cool. It was the perfect way to keep up his exercise routine. And, just like at work, it was good to be around military personnel again—people who understood a lot about you and your experiences without even having to ask.

  It also meant more time with Tara—even if sometimes Jesse was competing against her, like he was now.

  They were on opposing sides of a tag-team grappling drill that focused on groundwork skills, which were all about achieving the submission of your opponent after a takedown. It shifted the focus of the fight from striking and kicking to wrestling and grappling. A good fighter needed to be competent at both, because in a true fight you had to be able to transition between different martial arts techniques sometimes in the space of just a few seconds.

  Jesse had been placed on a team with Noah, Dani, and Leo, along with a few other people he’d only been able to talk to long enough to shake hands and exchange names.

  “We’re practicing groundwork here,” Coach Mack said. “Your turn ends when you tap out or if you can get close enough to the edge to tag in one of your teammates. No striking, this is all about grappling for submission. Mo, Sean, you’re up first.”

  Good-natured laughter and ribbing rumbled around the group, and then Jesse saw why. Both men were stacked. “Come on, Mo,” Jesse said, cheering on his teammate.

  With their teams forming a circle around them, the two men knelt facing one another. Both looked like mountains compared to the rest of the men in the room—none of whom were small. Jesse was half glad he wasn’t starting off facing one of them. Mack gave the signal, and they tapped gloves. And then it was on—the grappling and the shit-talking.

  “Hate to take you down, Mo,” Sean said.

  Mo actually managed to chuckle as they struggled for dominance. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you.”

  “Come on, Mo, get him,” Dani said. “Teach that bigmouth a lesson.”

  “Love you, too, D,” Sean called out.

  It was teasing he paid for, though, because Mo managed to get a hold around Sean’s chest and flipped him over, going for a rear-naked choke with a body lock. Sean just escaped it, rolling his hips in a way that weakened Mo’s hold. Going for another lock, Mo rolled him, coming close enough to tag Dani in.

  “Excellent,” she said, rubbing her hands together.

  Everyone congratulated Mo as he came out.

  “Go get him, Dani,” Noah said, humor plain in his voice.

  Sean beckoned her closer. “Think you got what it takes, sweetheart?”

  Dani’s words were nearly a growl. “Don’t fucking call me sweetheart.”

  Jesse felt like there was an insider joke he didn’t yet know about these two, but as he watched Sean and Dani grapple, one thing was clear: tension roared off the two of them—and not all of it was about the fight. He couldn’t help but wonder if they used to date or something, because there was a kind of volatile personal—maybe even sexual—chemistry between them.

  Sean had bulk, but Dani had speed and flexibility. So even though Sean managed to pin her fairly quickly, she worked her way out of it just as fast and even managed to get her legs around his neck, pulling him onto his side. In a move that was all muscle, Sean flipped himself and pinned her again, but Dani was fighting it enough that he couldn’t force her to tag out, so he managed to reach out a hand to tap a new teammate in—Tara.

  It was the first time Jesse got to see just how good she was. She was stronger than Dani, though not as flexible, so the women were well-matched.

  “Go, Dani,” Jesse called, cheering for his teammate even though it killed him a little to do so. Dani came down on top of Tara, and Jesse thought the woman had her, but at the last minute, Tara twisted her hips and got a leg up and around the back of Dani’s neck. Dani rolled out of the failed hold and reached out a hand…to him.

  Jesse tagged in, and now it was him and Tara alone on the mats. And, damn, whether he pinned her or she pinned him, he’d be a fucking winner. “Is this when the ass-kicking happens, Hunter?”

  She glared, then sprang for him.

  Satisfaction and competitiveness roared through his gut, and nearly twenty years of training and experience held him in good stead as Jesse grabbed hold of Tara with his arms and worked to gain leverage with his legs. She successfully fought against getting pinned, though, and attempted to flip him. From the edge of the mats, their teammates called out guidance and encouragement, but all Jesse knew was the feeling of Tara’s body against his.

  She escaped him a second time, her moves full of pure grit, and he got the distinct feeling she was fueled by whatever she’d gone through the evening before.

  That’s right, baby. Take it out on me, he thought, coming up over her back and going for a rear-naked choke. He got a good handhold, and then flipped her until she was on top of him, her back to his chest. He got his heels around her thighs next and locked her to him, tight.

  Tara struggled against the hold, trying to twist her hips and arch her back, but Jesse just squeezed harder, his body fucking singing from the contact. “Fuck,” she rasped, tapping out.

  He let go of her right away. “Good match,” he said. She rolled her eyes at him but bumped his fist, and that was all the respite he had before another man he didn’t know was in the ring with him and it was on again.

  After just a few more minutes, Jesse managed to tag himself out. And as he watched Noah grapple with a guy who had some serious burn scars on his neck and shoulder, adrenaline pounded through his body. It was a rush, and Jesse wanted more of it. Which was the moment he decided he was going to join WFC.

  The only part of the afternoon he didn’t like was having to remain a spectator for all of the s
parring, but he understood the rationale and would get his doctor appointment scheduled so he could be all in next time. When the whole thing wrapped up, Jesse let Coach know he’d be back, and then he joined Tara and about six others to hear them talking about going to dinner after everyone had cleaned up.

  “So, what did you think?” she asked.

  He peered down at her. Her face was ruddy and her hair was a shade darker from sweat. He’d found yet something else they shared in common in what was turning out to be quite a long list. And all of it made her appeal to him like no one had in so fucking long. Maybe ever. “As long as you’re okay with it, count me in. I’d like to join.”

  Tara’s smile was genuine. “I’m glad. I wouldn’t have brought you if I minded. Game to join a small group of us for dinner?”

  He was game to do anything if it meant hanging out with her. “Yeah, sounds good. I’m starving.”

  “Me, too,” she said. “I can’t promise Murphy’s-level nachos, but this grill place we sometimes go to is really good.”

  Her referencing their first night together did nothing to diminish the high buzzing through his veins. “As long as they have food that goes in my pie hole, I’ll be happy.” Tara chuckled.

  Beside him, Mo laughed and clapped him on the back. “Sounds like you’ll fit in here just fine.”

  And though it was totally said in jest, it hit Jesse more deeply than that. One of the hardest things since retiring was feeling like he no longer belonged…anywhere. And maybe, just maybe, Tara had helped him find another way to build the foundations of a new life.

  Which was just one more way Tara Hunter had rocked his world.

  * * * *

  Tara could hardly believe how much difference a day made. Twenty-four hours before, she’d been in the midst of the worst panic attack in months. Now, she sat surrounded by old friends and new at the end of a very good day.

  And Jesse had been a big part of it.

  She’d woken up with the song he’d played for her in her ear, his phone still in her hand. Despite the fact that him leaving the cell there in the first place meant he might’ve heard how upset she was, he’d treated her exactly the same during the whole return trip back to DC. And then he’d still wanted to check out WFC with her, and their car ride to the club had been filled with conversation and teasing—and a few seriously hot moments that made her heartrate spike every time she thought of them.